The Photo Op

VALENTINES DAY 2025

I only collect our mail from the post office a couple of times a week, so there's usually a pretty good pile of stuff to go through when I bring it home.

Today is no different. Just bills and trash. The bills go to my home office and the trash goes in the can.

But, what's this? It looks like a Valentine's Day card. Red envelope with hearts printed on it. And it's addressed to me in lovely, obviously female, handwriting.

There is no return address.

I tear into it.

Yep, it's an old-school Valentine card. Just like the ones we used to send and receive in junior high. It's a picture of a big, red heart pierced with a golden arrow. The card reads, "Be Mine!"

Weird.

I flip it over and the back is covered in the same script as the envelope. This is what it says:

Roy -

Happy Valentine's Day!

I'm going to be in town this weekend. You may not remember but you told me that you would like to take pictures of me "sometime". Well, I have "some time" on Friday if you are free.

I'll be staying at The Crescent Hotel. Come by about 6 pm. Give them your name at the desk and they'll give you my room number.

Hope to see you then!

Love,

Trudy

I flop down hard on a chair in the living room. My head is spinning.

Trudy? Are you kidding? How could I forget? Trudy came to see me last year for my birthday and it was the best night of my life!

Friday is Valentine's Day. I can't believe she's free! And my lovely wife will be away all weekend!

There is no way I'm going to pass up this photo opportunity.

I spend several days preparing. Making sure all of my camera batteries are charged and memory cards are formatted. All of my lights work. Everything I could possibly need is packed into my camera bags. Extra lenses, chargers, cables, cords, reflectors, filters. My laptop computer is ready to go with all updates installed.

Friday can't get here fast enough.

The day finally arrives and I drive to The Crescent Hotel. It's a high-rise, luxury hotel in the heart of downtown. I'm way early (I'd rather be an hour early than five minutes late) so I take some time to scout the place.

The lobby is huge and very modern. Lots of plush seating pods, spread out from the tall windows facing the street to the back of the room, which features a long, gas fireplace embedded in a granite wall. Tall, bronze floor lamps bathe the seating areas in a warm glow and artistic lighting features hang from the high ceiling providing a consistent brightness even away from the ambient sunlight emanating from the windows.

The whole place is dressed up with a layer of Valentine's Day decorations. There are two huge pillars of pink and white balloons flanking the check-in desk. Large bouquets of roses and carnations are scattered about. There are red and pink heart-shaped pillows in most of the seats and boxes of chocolate candy open on the coffee tables.

I step into the lounge to the right of the lobby. It's a little darker but has plenty of ambient lighting and there is a small, glowing orb in the center of each table. The bar area is all mirrors and sparkling glass. There's a grand piano and a trap set next to a small dance floor at the back of the room. It's a little early so there are only a few people in here but I can imagine it will get pretty busy later.

The restaurant on the other side of the lobby is similarly appointed. Small, intimate booths with the same glowing centerpiece on the cloth-covered tables. Large, open kitchen with lots of chrome and brass fixtures. A curved buffet with glass shields reflecting the bright, direct lighting.

I'm really looking forward to getting shots of the stunningly gorgeous Trudy in all of these beautiful places. I just got a new camera that excels in low-light situations and I'm eager to see what it can do.

I head back to the lobby and give the clerk at the desk my name; she retrieves an envelope and hands it to me. It looks like another Valentine, this time with just my name on it.

I tear the envelope open and smile at the cute little Cupid card. Bow and arrow. Diaper. Pink hearts. The whole bit. On the back is written:

Room 1500

A large heart encircles the room number.

I thank the clerk and collect a bellhop trolley to bring in my equipment, which is still in the truck.

As I'm carting my gear through the lobby to the elevators a young man in a sharp suit with "Lawrence" on his nametag says to me, "That's a lot of stuff. Need a hand?"

"Nah," I answer him, smiling. "I can handle it okay."

"I'm a beginning photographer myself," he says. "Have fun!"

"Count on it."

There is a large vase on a small table next to the elevators overflowing with long-stemmed roses. A little card says, "Take one for your Valentine." I press the call button, grab a red rose and the door to my rightly immediately dings and slides open. I trundle in, press the button for 15 (top floor!) and ride up.

The elevator interior is completely mirrored except for the doors. It has polished chrome handrails and bright pin lights all over the ceiling. I'm going to have to get some shots of Trudy in here.

The door slides open when I reach floor 15 and a sign tells me to turn right. Room 1500 is at the far end of the hall. Double doors. A suite.

Whoa.

I pull my cart down the hall and rap softly on the door. After a few seconds the door opens and my heart stops beating.

Trudy is standing before me looking like she just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Her long, dark, wavy hair is cascading down her back and framing her unbelievably beautiful face. Her emerald eyes sparkle under silky eyelids painted in smoky hues. Her soft face practically glows and her full, red lips are glistening as she smiles at me.

"Hello, Roy," she says, soft and low. "I'm so happy to see you."

She's wearing a white, collared blouse, open at the neck and tight across her flat belly. There is just a hint of milky cleavage showing. The sleeves are long and the cuffs are folded back. Her blouse is tucked into a simple, black skirt held by a thin black belt. The bottom of the skirt is a couple of inches above her knees and there is a deep slit on the left side showing off a bit more of one shapely leg. Her hose are black and shimmering and her shoes are very sexy, very tall, very black pumps.

I'm completely frozen in place.

"Are you going to come in?" she asks, with an eyebrow raised seductively. "Or just stand there with a not-so-bright look on your face."

I snap out of it. "Oh, sorry. It's just... I mean... Wow."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she says with a little giggle.

"You should. You are stunning." I suddenly remember the rose I am holding behind my back and hand it to her.

"You're so sweet," Trudy says, putting the pedals of the rose softly against her cheek. "Do you need help? That's a lot of stuff. I didn't bring that much and I'm staying the weekend."

"I've got it. I didn't want to need something and not have it," I answer as she opens both doors wide and I pull the trolley full of gear into the hotel room.

But this is not a hotel room. This is a small apartment.

There is a full-sized kitchen to the left of the entry hall. There is a large coat closet and a small bathroom to the right. The kitchen is fully stocked with stainless steel appliances and a large cooktop. There is a tall bar separating the kitchen from the living room with four padded stools.

Trudy places the rose on the bar and I follow her slinky hips as she leads me into the living area. There is abstract art on the walls and vertical blinds over large sliding glass balcony doors. Against one wall is a long, low couch with shaded lamps at both ends and two matching, plush chairs. The furniture is arranged in a horseshoe with a glass coffee table in the middle.

A long credenza spans the opposite wall and a desk with an office chair and lamp complete the furnishings.

The carpet is thick, soft and light tan, almost white.

Very nice. Very classy. Very up-scale. Very expensive.

Just like Trudy.

She sits on a barstool, her legs crossed, while I unload my gear, putting most of it in the coat closet so it will be out of the way. I push the trolley out into the hallway and call downstairs for a pick-up.

I get out my camera and affix a lens, checking the battery and memory card.

"So, Trudy, what did you have in mind for photos?"

She squints her sultry eyes softly and leans her head back thoughtfully. "I really didn't have anything specific in mind, Roy. I just don't have any recent pictures of myself." She locks her deep, green eyes to mine and adds, "Whatever you want to do with me would be fine."

All the blood in my head suddenly rushes south.

After holding my gaze for a moment she stands and says, "I brought a lot of clothes. What would you like first?"

"What you're wearing now is nearly perfect," I reply. "We can start right there."

Trudy gives me a sexy, side-eye look. "Nearly perfect?" she asks, with a put-on pout and her hands on her hips.

"It would be completely perfect if you would, um, lose the bra."

She tosses her head back and laughs. "Oh, you naughty boy!" she says, shaking her finger at me, her long, red nails flashing. She moves to the sliding bedroom doors and says, "I'm going to freshen up while you get set up. Just be a moment." With a coy look over her shoulder, she slides the door open and then closed behind her.

Freshen up? How can you improve on perfection?

I open the blinds to let some ambient sunlight into the room. There is a fantastic view of downtown from the balcony. I set up a large soft-box light on a tall stand and point it to the bar area. I take a few test snaps just to make sure my exposure levels are set.

After a few minutes, Trudy returns to the room, looking absolutely radiant. Somehow she has improved upon perfection.

She has a small comb holding up one side of her hair revealing her alabaster neck. And, to my absolute delight, she has removed her bra. Trudy's breasts are not large, but they are very shapely and perky. Her erect nipples show subtly in her blouse and her soft, brown areolas are just barely visible through the white material.

Needless to say - she looks fantastic.

"Where do you want me?" she asks, sweetly.

It takes every bit of self-control I possess not to answer with all the places I want her. Against the wall. On the floor. Bent over the chair. On the couch.

"You looked great on that barstool before. Let's try that."

She rakes her fingernails across my back as she walks by, her hips swaying hypnotically. Before I even snap a picture I can see that Trudy is going to be a fantastic model.

She hops up on the stool and crosses her legs, facing me.

"Okay. I'm going to direct you a little bit. If you are uncomfortable with anything I ask you to do, just tell me and we'll try something else."

"You're the director, Roy. I'm all yours."

Another shot to the groin.

"Great. Sit up real tall so your back is arched. Cross your legs, right over left and turn the stool so you're facing straight at the bar." I can hear her legs slide against each other as she switches them. "Now, turn the barstool and your lower body to the left, towards me, but keep your upper body facing the bar." She handles the twisting motion with ease. "With your body still facing front, turn your head and look at me."

Snap snap snap. I fire off a half-dozen shots.

I immediately bring up the photos on the camera screen and move closer to her. She puts her soft hands over mine on either side of the camera as I thumb through the first few shots.

"Wow!" she exclaims. "I look pretty good!"

"No, Trudy." She looks up at me and our eyes lock for a few heartbeats. "You look fan-freaking-tastic." Her hand drops to my arm and she gives it a little squeeze. She leans in and places a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. I can smell her hair and feel her warmth. She is intoxicating.

"Let's have some fun, Roy."

"All right! I'm going to take a LOT of pictures. We'll get into a rhythm before too long - I'll snap some shots and pause, you change your pose or your facial expression, or even just your eye line, and freeze. I'll snap more shots."

"Got it."

"Let's do more of this same setup. I'll move around a bit. You can look at the camera or look over or past me. Tilt your head at different angles. Run your hands through your hair. Smooth your skirt and your stockings. Just remember to freeze so I can snap a few shots."

She's a natural. She moves easily from pensive to playful, from enticing to full-on seductive just sitting on the barstool. I circle around her and adjust the light box, getting different angles.

One of the worst mistakes you can make when photographing a woman is to tell her to "be sexy." That makes her self-conscious and can have the opposite effect. I direct Trudy to breathe through her mouth instead of her nose because her lips are so sexy when her mouth is slightly open and her tongue and teeth are visible. I direct her to sit up tall and arch her back, creating a very appealing S-curve in her body. I have her rub her legs together, which creates space between her thighs. I also direct her to bounce her shoe on the tips of her toes. Sexy as hell.

"Is there anything to drink in the fridge?" I ask.

"Just some water and iced tea."

"Perfect." I find a short, clear glass tumbler and put a couple of ice cubes in it. I pour three fingers of iced tea. Looks just like the real thing.

I have found that giving your subject a prop to play with will help to relieve a lot of the self-conciseness that is natural when someone is pointing a camera at you.

Trudy holds the drink up to her pretty face, feeling the cool glass on her smooth cheek. She stirs the contents with an elegant fingertip. I get an incredible shot of her licking the liquid from her finger and another of her running her cool fingers down the front of her shirt.

I'm suddenly aware of the leaky boner in my pants.

I have her swing around and slide to the edge of the barstool, only a bit of her fine rump making contact with the seat. She raises her right knee, hooks her heel in the footrest and stretches her left leg out towards me with her foot on the floor and her toes pointed. This pulls her skirt very tight and raises it a few inches on her left leg, the slit revealing more silky thigh.

With her arms straight and her hands on the stool at either side, I have her lean her upper body towards me. This pulls her blouse tight across her chest, revealing a bit more cleavage. It's not a terribly comfortable position but it's very sexy and I take about a dozen shots of her.

Trudy reaches down and runs one hand up her leg, pulling her skirt up even further. She is really getting into the spirit of this.

After glancing outside I tell her, "The sun will be going down soon. Let's go outside and get some 'Golden Hour' shots."

"Do you want me to change?"

"No. Just take off your skirt."

"Really?" I nod my head and she tilts hers. "Okay. You're the boss."

She stands and loosens her belt. She hooks her thumbs on either side of the waistband and shimmies her hips in the way that only a woman can. I hear the soft whisper of her sleek legs rubbing together. She pushes the skirt past her thighs and it drops to the floor. She delicately steps out and I pick it up and lay it across the barstool. She stands before me with her hands on her waist.

Wow.

The bottom of her blouse is just overlapping the top of her ass and the delta of her thighs. Her dark, silky legs look ten feet long. I have an overwhelming desire to drop to my knees and bury my face in her crotch but I just pop her collar up instead.

"Is this good?" she asks, cocking her hip.

"Oh, yeah," I croak in answer. "Very good."

"Well, let's do it!" she says as she turns towards the balcony door.

Oh, yes,

I think to myself.

Let's do it.

I grab a cordless, rechargeable light and a collapsible reflector from my kit and follow Trudy out to the balcony. While she gazes out at the city, I set up the light and reflector in the far corner, adding a warm glow to the scene.

I take dozens, maybe a hundred shots of Trudy as the sun goes down. She turns and twists her body in every possible way as the light breeze catches her hair and blouse. She pulls the comb out of her hair and shakes it loose, dark, silky curls cascading down. She loosens a couple of blouse buttons, revealing more milky cleavage and a bit of chocolate brown areola. She slides her fingers up and down her chest, looking at me with a deep hunger in her dark, emerald eyes.

"I didn't know this would make me so horny, Roy."

"Yeah. Happens to me, too."

She glances down at the tent pole in my pants. "I can see..."

I quickly adjust my hard-on so it's not so lewd and continue snapping pictures of this goddess. The sunset is like fire in the sky, painting her exquisite canvas with warm, golden light.

Saying "What the hell..." Trudy frees the last few buttons of her blouse. Her perfect nipples are erect and her flawless, creamy breasts catch the last of the fading sunlight as the lights of the city come up.

Snap snap snap. I have died and gone to photographer heaven.

When it gets too dark we head back inside. I have her stretch out on the couch and get a lot of great shots with her breasts partially, and completely, exposed.

Trudy mentions that she's a little hungry so we take a break. She has a deli tray piled with meats, cheeses, crackers, vegetables and dips. I didn't realize I was hungry until we start eating.

I set my laptop on the bar and dump my memory card to it. We talk and laugh as I swipe through the hundreds of images we've captured. Some good, some not-so-good, many unbelievably gorgeous.

"Oh, Roy! These are so good!" Trudy says with a wide smile. "Can you send some of them to me?"

"Not yet. These are raw files straight out of the camera. I need to process and edit them. After that, I will get them to you."

I add, "You think you look good now. Wait until I edit some of these. You will really pop."

"I can't wait to see them," she says.

"I look forward to showing them to you," I answer, holding her smoldering gaze for a couple of heartbeats.

"There's a Valentine's party going on downstairs. I'd love to get some shots of you down there if you feel up to it. Do you have anything you can wear?"

"Of course!" she exclaims, hopping off the barstool. Her perky breasts jiggle and bounce under her open blouse. "How 'bout I meet you downstairs in about forty-five minutes."

"That will be awesome. I'll be there."

"Fun!" Trudy presses her warm, soft lips to my cheek. With her face close to mine she says, "Thank you for this. You make me feel so pretty."

"No," I answer. "I'm just showing you how pretty you are."

She puts her warm hands on either side of my face and kisses me softly. I taste her lipstick as her mouth parts and her slick tongue brushes against my lips. The kiss is long and sweet, languid and dreamy. When it breaks she holds my face close to hers for a few moments before pushing off and disappearing into the bedroom.

I close the laptop, install a fresh battery and memory card into the camera, tidy up the kitchen and head downstairs. The lobby is humming with activity, people going and coming. Couples arm-in-arm entering the restaurant and lounge. I find a chair facing the bank of elevators and wait.

My old friend Lawrence comes over for a visit. I show him my new camera and we talk for a while about the technical specifications. I admit to him that I don't really know a lot about all the settings but it's nice to have a camera that is smart and capable enough to get good shots in just about any situation. The auto-focus is particularly impressive, as it will lock focus on the eyes of the subject and adjust when the subject moves. We talk about graphics editing software, where the real magic happens.